Insatiable
by Robottko
Summary: *An AU Sherlock fic* He is the third child of God, born of sin and earth, forgotten as the man he is. He walks the earth, feeding off pain and destruction, but finding no delight in it. Not desiring human company, Death walks the earth alone, until one day he finds solace in an Army doctor who steals his victims by the dozens.
1. Chapter 1: Florida State Penitentiary

_Hello lovely reader! I wish to thank you from the bottom of my heart for attempting to read this tricky tale. Normally I shy away from writing fan fiction, however this story was plaguing my mind, refusing to let up. So, here is my chicken scratch, un-beta'd attempt. Please R&R. _

_Hugs and kisses and skittles too,_

_Robottko._

_**Disclaimer: **My mother says that just because I believe I was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in a past life does not mean I have full access to mess with his works.  
_

* * *

**Ch. 1**

**Florida State Penitentiary**

_i**n·sa·tia·ble**_

**_/inˈsāSHəbəl/_**

**_Adjective_**

**_(of an appetite or desire) Impossible to satisfy: "an insatiable hunger"_**

The man sat on a bed of snow white sheets, twiddling his thumbs idly. Though his expression was calm, an inner storm brewed deep inside of him, and the blackest part of his soul raged with a vile fury. He had made fruitless plans to escape this hellhole; wonderful fantasies of kidnapping his wife, destroying the man who put him here, and never seeing a prison again. But here he sits, waiting for his final fate, waiting for the guards to take him away and make him sleep forever.

The sounds of footsteps drawing near rips him from his reverie. Glowering at the sound, the man leans back against his bed, looking perfectly at ease.

"Jeremiah Hudson." A guard, Maxwell Johnson, says. His last and final greeting. Hudson sits up and smirks at Johnson.

"Present." His voice is just short of seething. "I don't suppose you're throwing a going away party for me?" The guards stood still, barely glancing at Hudson. "Thought not." Standing, Hudson walks to the door, holding out his arms for the shackles. "I'm really going to miss you all."

Shackled quickly, the guards lead Hudson down a long hallway, ignoring the jeers of the other prisoners.

Entering the cool, dark room at the end of the hall, Hudson is unsurprised to find a bed not unlike the bed that was in his cell. The only difference was the dark black restraints that cut across the white rather violently.

_Beautiful_ Hudson thought. _Poetic, a fine way to go._

Strapped quickly to the bed of black-and-white, Hudson sighed, the vile thoughts settling down into mere musings. As the needle pierces his skin, he thinks back again to his lovely wife, the beauty he left on Baker Street. _I wonder if she thinks of me._

"Everyday." A deep voice responds. "Though not in the way you would hope."

Hudson's stomach drops out from underneath him, the pleasant thoughts of his wife dashed away by pure hatred. It's him, the creature that put him here. Struggling against the bonds that hold him down, Hudson tries desperately to get to the man. He wants to rip out his beautiful blue eyes.

"Tut tut, none of that." The voice says again. "No one can see me, you know, it's rather pointless."

"Delirium brought on by the drugs?" Hudson's voice is weak, but rough.

"Not at all." The voice is amused now, "They can't see me because I _am_ death." With those words, a hand nearly as white as the sheets below him snakes across his vision. The hand, landing on his chest, feels ice cold. The cold seeps through his body, freezing his blood. "Enjoy hell, Mr. Hudson."

The doctors sighed as the heart rate monitor flat-lined, and started to clean up the execution room. Nobody watched as a tall, black haired man left the room, pulling a black leather glove over his too-pale hand. Nobody noticed the man in the long coat sweep through the prison, seemingly at ease with his surroundings. Nobody realized that death himself, an unwelcome visitor at the best of times, had left the prison, a smirk gracing his face. Nobody saw Sherlock Holmes.


	2. Chapter 2: The Tree of Good and Evil

**Ch. 2**

**The Tree of Good and Evil**

**_Just as Death and Destruction are never satisfied, so human desire is never satisfied. Proverbs 27:20 NLT_**

He was born on a day of sunshine and sadness, fashioned out of sin and earth. The third child of God, he is hated for who he is and what he represents. Though millennia have passed, the day is clear in his mind, recalling his birth as though it were yesterday.

* * *

Green. The world is awash in it. Everywhere he looks is coated and covered and made of green. It is a beautiful sight, the green. He feels as though he can swim in it, taste it, feel it. Green. So distracted by the foliage, it takes him a minute to see the man and woman. He smiles at them, and they look upon him in horror.

"His name is _Sheol_."The Shining One says behind him. "And he is your punishment for sin. For no matter how far you run, he shall find you. For you were made from the dust, and to the dust you will return."

Thrilled by his new name, Sheol looks upon his new companions. Their skin is the same deep colour as the bark on the trees, their hair a rich black. Startled, he sees green leaves on their bodies, so he looks at himself to see if he grows leaves as well. His skin is not the warm brown as the others, but an icy white, smooth and unblemished. He is not adorned in leaves, but is fully naked for the man and woman to see. Unembarrassed, he examines himself closely, taking in every detail about himself.

Sheol looks up again to find The Shining One clothing the man and woman in animal skins. He waits patiently, and soon The Shining One adorns him in skins as well, but he is given something that the man and woman are not.

"These gloves protect those around you from your powers." The Shining One said, putting the strange, black skins on his hands. "For you take life, not give it. You did not eat of the tree, so you shall not suffer from it, but are death. You shall live forever."

Sheol nodded, unable to decipher what The Shining One was talking about. Take life? Remove it from the body? He smiles at The Shining One, biding him goodbye as he leaves the world of green.

* * *

It takes weeks before the man and woman trust him, though he does not mind. He learns of their names, Adam and Eve, and he learns of their story. The first and second children of God, they were born without sin.

"As was I. I am like you." Sheol mistakenly says, happy of their companionship. They sneer at him.

"No, you were born of sin." They tell him, "Sin and Destruction. You are not like us."

It is several days before Sheol talks to them again.

When he does, he learns that the woman, Eve, is with child. Happy at the prospect of new friends, Sheol forgets the harsh words of Adam and Eve, hoping that this new child will accept him more readily than it's parents.

And he does. Little Cain looks up to Sheol as a friend and brother. Sheol finds joy in Cain, and later Abel, and he believes that they shall live forever in peace and joy.

It isn't until several year's later that Sheol discovers the true terror of The Shining One's gift.

* * *

**_A/N:_****_ I can hardly believe this story has followers! Thank you so much for the faith that this story will go places, and I hope I didn't disappoint so much that you all disgustedly hit 'unsubscribe.' Thank you for the reviews, they made my day absolutely wonderful. And I promise I won't go through the history of the entire world before bringing Sherlock to John. I'm just as impatient as you. Keep being wonderful!_**

**_Naturally,_**

**_Robottko_**


	3. Chapter 3: Cain and Abel

**Ch. 3**

**Cain and Abel**

**"Death may be the greatest of all human blessings." **  
**-Socrates**

"Sheol!" A voice called, full of excitement. The sound pulls Sheol from his thoughts, and he looks at the leaves around him in mild surprise, as if the tree had grown around him instead of him climbing it just this morning. "Sheol!" The voice calls again, and Sheol knows that it is his friend-brother looking for him. Sheol looked down from his tree branch, a smile creeping over his face.

"I am up here, Cain." Sheol chuckles, and Cain looks up both startled and relieved. "You are acting as if I had ran away."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Cain scoffs, watching Sheol drop gracefully to the ground. "If it weren't for Abel and me, I would imagine you travelling far and wide, exploring new lands and having grand adventures."

"All alone?" Sheol asks, raising a dark eyebrow. "I would much rather you and Abel come with me. The adventure would be all the more exciting."

Cain huffs a laugh, grabbing a hold of Sheol's shoulder, pulling him in the direction Cain had just come from. "You know Abel and I cannot leave mother and father! They need our help caring for the young ones, ploughing the fields and tending to the animals…" Cain frowns, a wistful look appearing on his face. "Perhaps, when the young ones are old enough to help, we can adventure."

Sheol smiles at his friend-brother, knowing that the likelihood of travelling with them is low. But he agrees with him quietly, if only to appease him.

Another shout startles Sheol, and he looks up to see Abel running towards them, a grin on his face.

"Sheol! Cain! Did you hear the news?" He looks excited, "The Shining One plans on visiting us!"

"The Shining One?" Cain asks, surprise clear on his face. "He wants to visit us here?" The surprise turns to joy, then to terror. "We haven't done anything wrong, have we brother?"

"No no!" Abel stops in front of them, winded from his run. "He's visiting us with good tidings!"

"We must prepare for his visit." Sheol said, his smile mirroring the younger man's. "And I suggest you two take the time to find a gift."

"A gift?" Abel wondered, "What could we give The Shining One that he doesn't have already?"

"Perhaps something you grew or herded yourself?" Sheol suggested, "Show him the hard work you two have been doing, he shall be proud to see it."

"An excellent idea." Cain grinned, his gaze flickering in the direction of his impressive garden. "How long do we have?"

"According to mother, he shall arrive tomorrow." Abel said, his own brow furrowing. Sheol smiled at his youngest friend-brother.

"Worry not, Abel. I am sure The Shining One will love your gift." He reassured him. Abel just nodded, a look of determination spreading across his face.

"I need all night to prepare." He said, breaking away from their small group and dashing towards his livestock. "I want my gift to be perfect!"

Sheol watched him go, clearly amused. Cain chuckled behind him.

"Thank goodness my garden is already perfect. I'll throw something together tomorrow."

It was clear to Sheol who had spent the most time on their gift to The Shining One. Abel's gift of meats was lovely, and it was clear that he had chosen from only the best of his livestock. Cain's gift, however was lacking. It was clear he had thrown it together that morning, and he hadn't even used his best vegetables. Cain caught Sheol's eye, and merely shrugged, a slightly cocky smile graced his lips. Sheol did nothing but shake his head, turning to watch as The Shining One arrived.

"My children." The Shining One said, his voice low and warm. "It is wonderful to see you."

"We brought you gifts!" Abel burst, his face in awe. The Shining One responded with a low chuckle that reminded Sheol of his own laugh.

"I see that. And such wonderful gifts." The Shining One looked at their gifts now. "Thank you Cain for your vegetables. You're harvesting pleases me." The Shining One said politely, turning to Abel's gifts. "Abel, did you use the best of your livestock?"

"I did." Abel smiled sheepishly, looking at his feet.

"My son, thank you. This means more than you know." The Shining One's face glowed with pride and love. Cain shot an annoyed glance at Abel before speaking.

"My plants are far more numerous than his livestock." He said, his voice infused with pride.

"Pride is not a redeeming quality." The Shining One admonished. "Abel's gift was well thought out, yours thrown together. While I am pleased by both, Abel's is the better one."

Only Sheol noticed Cain's face darken.

"You made me look bad!" Cain yelled, rounding on Abel when The Shining One left. "You're always trying to make me look bad!"

"No, brother!" Abel said, shaking his head furiously, placing a comforting hand on Cain's shoulder. "I would never-"

"Shut up!" Cain pushed Abel away, "you've always been jealous of me! You're jealous because I'm better, you're jealous because I'm older, you're jealous because Sheol is closer to me!"

Sheol tried to get between the brothers, placing his hands out to keep them at bay. The black gloves the Shining One gave him contrasting with his white arms. "Friend-brothers, please-"

"Maybe if you had tried harder, The Shining One would have liked your gift better!" Abel yelled, ignoring Sheol.

Anger worse than Sheol had ever seen passed over Cain's face, and before Sheol could stop him, Cain had picked up a rock, throwing it as hard as he could at his brother.

The rock soared quickly through the air, missing Cain's target of Abel's shoulders, and hitting him in the head instead. Abel crumpled to the ground, and Sheol saw the oddest thing.

It was as if the young man was glowing. The aura was powerful, and Sheol had the desire to reach out and touch, to feel the glow of Abel. Peeling off a glove, Sheol walked over slowly, transfixed by the warmth. He bent down, placing his hand gently over the brightest part of the glow, right in the centre of his chest.

The glow was gone, disappearing as suddenly as it had come, and Sheol looked down in confusion. He shook Abel's shoulder gently.

"Abel, awaken." Sheol said. Abel did not respond, so Sheol shook him harder. "Abel!"

Cain walked over, his anger fading to worry. "What has happened, Sheol?"

"Your brother will not wake up." Sheol said, clearly frustrated.

Cain bent down as well, pressing his hand to where the glow had appeared. Panic spread across Cain's face, and he shook Abel harder. "Brother! Wake up, oh please wake up."

"He will not awaken." A quite voice said. Sheol and Cain looked up to see a man standing over them.

"Who are you?" Cain asked, falling away from his brother.

"I am an angel, a warrior of The Shining One. Cain, you have murdered your brother."

"Murdered?"

"His heart will beat no more." The angel said simply. Turning to Sheol, the angel extended a hand. "I have come for Abel's soul."

Sheol looked at the angel, shaking his head. "I have no idea what you mean."

"The glow." The angel looked impatient. "That was the soul trying to leave the body. It can never leave fully without your help."

Sheol looked in horror at young Abel. "This is my fault?"

"No, it is Cain's." The angel fixed his icy stare on Cain. Stumbling to his feet, the young man backed away from Sheol, pain and terror in his face.

"Leave me alone, I did nothing wrong." Cain cried. "Go away!"

"Cain…" Sheol stood as well, but his friend-brother turned away and ran.

Sheol and the angel watched as the young man disappeared. Turning to Sheol, the angel extended his hand. "The soul?"

Sheol lifted his un-gloved hand and clasped the angels, a brief flash of light flickering between the hands before vanishing.

"Thank you." The angel smiled tightly before turning away.

"What are you going to do to him?" Sheol asked, panicking slightly.

"Bring him to paradise." The angel said softly, turning back to Sheol. "He gets to rest in comfort forever with The Shining One."

Sheol nodded once, his head tilting questioningly.

"You have questions." The angel stated, his face amused.

"Just one. What is your name?" Sheol blurted out.

"My name?" The angel chuckled. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because you are taking away my friend-brother." Sheol said hotly.

The angel shook his head, the small smirk still tugging at his lips.

"I have many names. I am an arc-angel, beloved by The Shining One." The angel's smile softened lightly. "But you may call me Mycroft."

* * *

**_A/N: Thank you for all the absolutely wonderful reviews. To the people who favourited/follow this story, you can't imagine how delighted I am. Every notification of a new follower had me dancing around my room. I really hope you enjoy this chapter, it was difficult to write. I scrapped about 3 copies before settling on this one. _**

**_always,_**

**_Robottko_**


	4. Chapter 4: The Angel Gabriel

**Ch. 4**

**The Angel Gabriel**

**_The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time. -Mark Twain_**

Meetings with Mycroft became more frequent, and Sheol begins to think of the angel as a sort of brother. Mycroft seems to have similar sentiments, for he often visits Sheol even when there hasn't been a death. The frequent visits begin to occur not long after Sheol's third soul collecting.

_Sheol looks down at the glowing body. It's a young child, and her parents are crying, sobbing that their daughter is dying and that there is nothing they can do about it. Shaking, Sheol stretches out an ungloved hand, drawing the light away from the girl. The sorrow is far too much for him, and he begins to cry along with the parents, wishing he brought life instead of taking it away._

_"Sheol." The voice behind him calls. Mycroft. "Come with me."_

_Sheol follows, his body trembling from grief. The angel draws him away from the family. They've forgotten that Sheol was there already, a strange side effect of death._

_Mycroft grips Sheol's shoulders gently, encouraging him to look at the angel. _

_"Sheol, caring is not an advantage." Mycroft speaks kindly. "You will only hurt yourself if you continue your work this way."_

_Sheol merely nods, trying to stop the sadness and hurt. Mycroft speaks truth, of course. To remember and care about everyone would slowly destroy Sheol, whittling away at him until there was nothing left. _

Sheol knows that Mycroft is visiting him frequently to make sure he isn't affected by the deaths, and he works hard to make the angel proud. Mycroft visits him so much, that Sheol begins to wonder if he is the only angel in heaven. It isn't until later that he meets Gabriel.

Sheol follows Abraham and Isaac up the mountain, enjoying the way the boy skips along. The Shining One has ordered Abraham to sacrifice his son, though both Abraham and Sheol know that it's merely a test of loyalty. The trek is long, and the boy and his father soon grow weary, though Sheol remains unaffected. They soon reach the mountain top, and Abraham begins to make preparations for the sacrifice. Sheol starts to worry when a sacrifice doesn't come, and his worry becomes panic when Abraham ties Isaac down and lifts the knife to finish the sacrifice.

Suddenly a hand reaches out to stop Abrahams. The newcomer holds Abraham's arm gently. "Do not sacrifice your son, Abraham. There is a sheep in the bush over there, a gift from The Shining One. Sacrifice the sheep instead." Sheol realises that this is an angel as well. He is different from Mycroft, his hair is silver, and the kind smile on his face puts everyone at ease.

After the sacrifice, Sheol waits for Abraham and Isaac to leave before turning to the angel.

"Who are you?" He asks quickly, not wanting him to vanish. The angel smiles at him.

"I am known as the arc-angel Gabriel." He says softly. "But you may call me Greg."

"I didn't realise that there were other angels besides Mycroft." Sheol mused. "Do you know him?"

Greg chuckled softly. "There are thousands of angels in heaven, but I do know Mycroft. He is my partner."

"Partner?"

"Humans lack the proper term." Greg said patiently. "Here one might call it marriage, but it is far stronger than that. We were created for one another."

Sheol nods, trying to understand. Greg smiles, trying to explain it better.

"The idea of marriage mates one body to another. But in heaven, it isn't just our bodies, but our souls as well."

"Soul mates?" Sheol tries the word out, and Greg nods.

"Yes, that is a proper term. Mycroft is my soul mate."

"Does everyone get a soul mate?" Sheol asks before he can stop himself. Greg understands what he is trying to say.

"Yes, everyone gets a soul mate. Yours is being perfected." Greg smiles, "I must go now, but I shall see you again."

"Yes," Sheol says, not paying attention when Greg vanishes.

From that moment on, Sheol's thoughts are consumed with his future soul mate. He wonders when he'll meet this person, what their name will be, what they'll be like. Will they be a soul collector like Sheol is? A harbinger of death? Or will they be the Greg to his Mycroft. Similar, but opposite? Every time Sheol see's Mycroft or Greg after that, he asks about his soul mate, but his soul mate is never ready.

"Soon, Sheol." Greg says soothingly. Mycroft is less gentle.

"Alone is safe right now." He tells him. "Alone is what protects you."

But years pass, and there is still no sign of his soul mate, and Sheol gives up hope.

After all, love only comes when you're least expecting it.

* * *

**A/N: This took me unbearably long to write. I cannot believe this story has people who are following and favoriting it. You are all lovely, and your reviews make my entire week. In fact, I'm still grinning foolishly at review from the last chapter, and I posted that almost a month ago. Next chapter, we might see a bit of John. I don't want you waiting too long to see him, for fear of boring you, so I'll think about giving you a taste. **

**Kisses, hugs and antique rugs,**

**Robottko**


	5. Chapter 5: Hands

**Ch. 5**

**Hands**

**_Pale Death beats equally at the poor man's gate and at the palaces of kings. _**

**_-Horace_**

_2005_

Mycroft watched the pale, dark haired man warily, his fingers tapping on the ornate desk in front of him. The other man shifted in his chair impatiently, his icy gaze revealing nothing.

"Sheol-"

"Mycroft, really." The other said shortly. "Do you not pay attention? I do not go by that name any more."

"Oh?" Mycroft matched his tone. "And what are you called now, may I ask?"

"Sherlock." The brunette said, his eyes flashing.

"Sherlock. An odd choice, but it fits. How did you come upon this name?" Mycroft asked.

"A play off 'Sheol,' naturally." Sherlock's voice was bored, "I adopted a few letters from my past…clients. Now, you didn't call me here to discuss my name choices, did you?"

"Obviously not." Mycroft rolled his eyes, leaning back in his leather chair. "You haven't been doing your duties."

"I've been performing them just fine, Mycroft." Sherlock growled.

"In the civilian world, perhaps. But there is a war going on out there, and we need you-"

"_Need me?"_ Sherlock stood abruptly, leaning on the desk to better glare at Mycroft. "You don't _need _me, you're merely stuck with me."

"Sherlock, calm down." Mycroft snapped, and the anger vanished from Sherlock's face, replaced with a cool indifference. "I would have thought you would have been over whatever tiff we had before."

"After what you did to me?" Sherlock snorted. "No, I believe I have earned my right to be angry."

"Fine, hold onto your childish anger." Mycroft rolled his eyes. "But go save the souls of the men at war. They have done nothing to harm you."

"Yes, _fine."_ Sherlock straightened up finally, "I will go and save their perfect little souls."

He stalked away, turning around when he reached the door, a smirk gracing his face.

"Oh, and Mycroft?" His voice was lofty. "You have been spending too much time with the mortals on earth. You've been gaining weight."

And with that, he departed in a whirl of his coat.

* * *

Afghanistan was, as always, brutally hot. Being dressed in dark colours didn't do anything to alleviate that fact. But he refused to remove his gloves until he actually needed to take a soul. His youth was filled with souls taken entirely too young because of a careless gesture or a friendly embrace.

Sighing, Sherlock made his way to the makeshift morgue on the army base. It was his 36th base that day, and he was already growing weary of reaping the souls. But worse fates awaited those who weren't collected in a seemly manner. Sherlock shuddered, repressing the terrible memories that seemed to lap at his consciousness at an increasingly frequent manner.

With a final press of his hand, Sherlock collected the last of the souls, preparing to move on to his next destination when he feels a gentle tugging, holding him back.

_'Ah, another person about to die.'_ He mused as a commotion begins nearby the tent he's currently in.

Leaving the makeshift morgue, Sherlock strolled to the source of the commotion, unsurprised to find a slew of doctors surrounding a man who has already started to glow.

_'You cannot save him.'_ Sherlock thought to the faceless mass. '_He is too far gone.'_

Sherlock has seen this millions of times since his life on earth began. The frail humans pounding at the chest of the dying one, even as his soul begins to glow. But the humans choose not to see the glow, just as they choose not to see Sherlock. They could see him if they really tried, but they would rather write off death as a necessary evil as opposed to an actual human.

_'No, not human.'_ Sherlock corrected himself. _'More than human. Better.'_

He walked up to the dying man, ignoring the doctors that are frantically milling around him. They are unimportant. Why bother memorising their faces when he would just have to watch them die later? His eyes focused on the one who is dying, and he removed his leather glove, reaching a hand out to take the man's soul.

Placing his hand over the man's heart, Sherlock began to draw his soul gently out of his body. He is startled when a highly tanned hand slapped over his.

_'Can he see me?'_ Sherlock wondered. He stared at the hand that was place atop of his, bewilderment and shock freezing him in place.

"Live, Murray!" A voice said. '_The hand's voice'_ Sherlock realised. The owner of the hand didn't see Sherlock, but was attempting to save his comrade. The tall brunette smirked slightly, looking up at the doctor.

He is handsome, no doubt. He has a kind face, which suited him well in his profession. Sherlock studied the man, annoyed to feel a twinge of _something_. Guilt, perhaps, that this kind doctor couldn't save his friend?

Sherlock shrugged as he pushed aside his surprised that the doctor's soul was still in his body. _'Perhaps I cannot take souls through the hands.'_ He attempted to reason with himself. But he knew this wasn't accurate. He had taken Johann Sebastian Bach with just a brushing of his fingertips against the composer's wrist. '_No matter, I'll think about it later. As for the matter at hand-'_

Sherlock glanced back at the body the blue eyed doctor had referred to as Murray, shocked that the glowing was receding.

'_Impossible…'_

Sherlock stared as the doctor's hand, which lay over his, coaxed Murray's soul back into his body. He watched as the familiar glow, the sign that the soul has left the body, reconnected to its earthly flesh. Sherlock turned to the blued eyed doctor once more, studying him as his face lit up with joy as the heart monitor returned to a normal pace.

'_Who are you?'_

"You saved him!" Another doctor cried.

"We saved him." The blue eyed doctor said, clapping a hand- _that hand_- on the other doctor's shoulder.

"Thank you, Doctor Watson."

_'Doctor Watson…what are you?'_

Sherlock stared at Doctor Watson, and for a second, barely a millisecond, the doctor's eyes met his. Sherlock's eyes widened, even as Watson looked away. He would be convincing himself he was imagining things, Sherlock knew, but the man still _saw _him.

Sherlock turned on his heel, leaving the medical tent as fast as he could. Mortals rarely saw Sherlock, especially if he didn't want them to see him. But this man, Doctor Watson, had not only seen him, but stolen a soul right out of his very grasp.

Sherlock was entirely unsure of what to make of it.

* * *

**A/N: I am so, so sorry that it took such a long time to write this chapter. I really have no excuse either, just a lot of rewrites. I wasn't really happy with how it was turning out when I first started it. **

**Don't worry, I will go back and explain why Sherlock doesn't like Mycroft, and also what happens to souls when they aren't collected. Promise! I just needed to get a bit of John in here (so you don't hate me completely!)**

**A huge thank you to the people who reviewed. Thank you! I never thought I would have a story that would make people wait for the next chapter (Here's looking at you, MysteriousPerson) **

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**Berry shakes and clear blue lakes,**

**Robottko**


	6. Chapter 6: Of Kings and Emperors

Ch. 6

Of Emperors and Kings

_You never realise death until you realise love.  
-Katharine Butler Hathaway_

_1002_

"Mycroft, I have found my soul-mate!" Sheol announced after a long day of soul collecting. "It has taken thousands of years, but he has finally come to me."

He watched at Mycroft looked over at Greg in confusion. Sheol wondered if The Shining One, or God, as he was currently called, had mentioned to the angels that his soul-mate was ready. It would certainly explain why Greg and Mycroft had never told him that he should be looking.

"And who might this soul-mate of yours be?" Greg asked after a long minute, a pleasant smile on his face. Though the idea of Sheol's soul-mate appearing without word from God was worrisome, the joy on Sheol's face was enough to make anyone smile.

"His name is Otto." Sheol said with pride. "He's intelligent, kind and the Holy Roman Emperor."

"The Emperor?" Mycroft asked, looking faintly alarmed. "Why on earth would you think him your soul-mate?"

"He understands me." Sheol said, looking a little uncertain. "He knows what I am, yet he does not judge me. He is the most intelligent human I've met."

"Guard your heart, Sheol." Greg said wisely. "Do not let it go unprotected."

"I won't." Sheol promised Greg solemnly. "I will watch over it."

* * *

Emperor Otto III had been the Holy Roman Emperor for nearly six years. A handsome man around the age of twenty one, he ruled Germany and the Roman Empire with an iron fist, letting nothing stand in his way.

The next day the Emperor and his men planned to make their way to Rome, waiting to ensure his rule on the grand city. But for now he stays in the small town of Civita Castellana, waiting for his love to come to him.

"Otto!" A familiar voice cries, and the brown haired Emperor turns, a smile on his face.

"Sheol" He responds in earnest, clasping the leather clad hands of the taller man. Sheol smiles down at Otto, joy clear on his face.

"It has only been a day that I've been gone, yet I've missed you every second of it." Sheol said as he brushed the brown hair away from Otto's brow. Otto sighed, leaning into the touch.

"I know it." He responded. "It is why I waited for you here. I couldn't focus upon our conquest, so I told my general I had a fever and needed to stop."

Sheol chuckled, cupping Otto's cheek gently. "I could have found you in Rome."

"The idea of not being able to pay attention to you…it drove me mad." Otto grinned. "And I needed an extra day with you. Princess Zoe is on her way to Rome for our impending marriage."

"Ah." Sheol frowned, taking a step back. "Your marriage. I forgot, naturally."

"Don't be hurt, Sheol!" Otto said, closing the distance once more. "I plan to break it off with her. I don't know her, nor do I love her."

"The Byzantine Empire shall be furious with you." Sheol said softly.

"I care not." Otto said forcefully. "For I have you. I love you, Sheol."

Sheol sucked in a breath, looking down at the young Emperor with wonder. He had never been loved before, and it was a marvellous feeling.

"I would like to try something." Sheol said as a grin spread across his face. "I believe you to be my soul-mate. If this is true, you should be safe from my curse."

"Not a curse, Sheol. A gift." Otto corrected as he had many times before. "And I don't care about the risks."

"But I do." Sheol said. "I don't want you to die because of me."

"But I shall die anyway." Otto said. Sheol's face swiftly became horrified, and Otto held up a placating hand. "Listen to me. It is true. Human's cannot live forever, and if it gives me the chance to be with you forever, then I shall take it."

"I do not see the souls once they move on." Sheol explained slowly.

"But there must be a way." Otto said. "Your angel-brother Mycroft, he must know some way."

"I shall ask him." Sheol said, smiling slightly.

"Now, what was it that you wanted to try?" Otto asked.

"I would like for you to kiss me." Sheol said softly, his pale face going slightly pink. "I believe it would be mutually beneficial. And perhaps if you began the contact and you aren't my soul-mate, then you might be spared."

Otto smiled slightly, reaching forward to grasp Sheol's highly embroidered tunic, pulling the taller man closer.

"I shall consider you my soul-mate even if I pass on." He said, leaning forward to press his lips to Sheol's.

It started off as a chaste kiss, but quickly elevated into something more passionate. Lips, warm and slick, moved against each other in a sloppy caress that sent jolts of electricity through both of the young men. When Otto began to slow his pace, Sheol followed his lead happily, placing each of his gloved hands on Otto's face, pulling him closer. He only stopped when Otto did, pulling back to look at his love with a smile on his face. The sight of the other man made him freeze in place.

Otto was dead.

"No." Sheol said, his eyes going wide. "You were my soul-mate, you can't have died. Please come back to me."

Laying Otto on the ground, Sheol began to tremble, tears flowing down his cheeks. Otto was not supposed to die, he hadn't had the glow of leaving soul. Placing his hands on Emperor's chest, he tried to will the soul back into his body, but to no avail. Otto was gone.

* * *

"Mycroft, you have to help me." Sheol began as soon as he saw the angel. Mycroft looked up from his desk, frowning at Sheol.

"You have his soul." Mycroft commented lightly, noting the tears running down his face. "I'm sorry, Sheol, there's nothing I can do. You removed his soul before his time."

"But you can put it back, correct?" Sheol asked, sounding hopeful.

"I cannot." Mycroft shook his head, striding over to Sheol with an outstretched hand. "Once a soul is removed completely, it is against God's rules to put it back."

"Can I see him, then?" Sheol asked softly, watching as Otto's glow passed from his body to Mycroft's.

"That is also against the rules. I'm sorry, Sheol." Mycroft said. Sheol began to panic at the thought of never seeing his love again.

"Then take me." Sheol said. "I don't want to perform this job anymore."

"No." Mycroft said sternly.

"I know you can do it." Sheol said, anger stirring in his stomach. "Remove me from my position, let me die."

"I will not." Mycroft said, not denying the fact that it could happen. "We need someone to do your job well, or bad things could happen."

"Anyone could do this job!" Sheol said hotly. "Take anyone off the street and force it upon them!"

"You are trying to throw away yourself because of one idiot king?" Mycroft asked, his eyebrows raising. "He was never your soul-mate, Sheol."

"He wasn't an idiot!" Sheol growled back, crossing his arms over his chest. "I loved him."

"And you killed him." Mycroft retorted. "I will not remove you from your duties. You are stuck with them forever, and we are stuck with you."

Sheol took a step back, hurt swimming through his eyes. He stared at his angel-brother in confusion and anger. How could Mycroft deny him this one request? He had never asked for anything like this before.

"Please, Mycroft. I-"

"No, Sheol. You've done quite enough already. Please, see yourself out." Mycroft sighed wearily.

Sheol didn't need to be told twice. Turning on his heel, he darted out of the angel's office. Mycroft watched him go, not realising that he wouldn't see the man for another thousand years.

* * *

**-Otto III (June, 980-January 23, 1002) became King of Germany at the early age of three, though several people served as regent until he reached adult hood at the age of 14. In 996 he became both the King of Italy and the Holy Roman Emperor as well. He died in the Civita Castellana (approximately 65 km north of Rome) from fever complications. He had no spouse, and no heirs. **

**A/N: Thank you so much for your amazing patience as I continue to be the worst author ever. You are all such lovely people, and you deserve daily updates, truly you do. Next chapter: More John!**

**Candy canes and picture frames,**

**Robottko**


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